For Once
by MonochromaticNocturne
Summary: Roderich has hit an all-time low. When nothing in life seems to be going his way, will he be able to find solace in the arms of someone unexpected, or will he give up before they even cross paths? *Rated M for: Language, Violence, and Sexual Themes **Disclaimer: Cover Image is NOT mine. Also, please inform me of any misspellings or instances of improper grammar that I missed.
1. Chapter 1: Problems

Lights dimmed, giving a soft glow to the stage. Women and men alike sitting and watching the show, one dollar bills burning holes in their wallets. Their eyes raking up the bodies as they spun and twirled, as inch by inch of glistening skin was revealed. A blonde man, now stripped down to a skimpy pair of red boxer-briefs, maneuvered his body around the pole and slid down. Another man, also blonde and wearing only a a small hot pink thong, glided his backside against the smooth metal. Finally, in the center of the stage and surrounded on either side by the other two men, was a brunette. His chocolate brown locks glimmered in slight perspiration and shined in the deep purple briefs hung tightly to his body as he twisted in all different patterns. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, but he didn't care at the moment.

He just wanted to leave, like every other night he had "work". All throughout the show, money was being thrown at them as they shed their clothing, until there was nothing left to protect them from the hungry eyes of the onlookers. They exited the stage and grabbed towels to cover themselves with until they changed. The brunette grasped his clothing and hurried off to the dressing rooms to change. His mind blank as he offered half-hearted "good show"'s to the other men. He was the first one into the changing room, and the first one out. He was silently hoping that the bartender, Ludwig, was handing out their checks. But a large, gloved hand on his shoulder told him otherwise. He turned and shuddered internally at the childish smile on the large man's face. Why did such a scary man have to run the strip club?

"Privyet, Roderich.~" The man purred, his cold violet eyes trailing his lean body. Ivan Braginski was, by far, the scariest man Roderich had ever met in his say he was scared shitless was a major understatement. "H-hallo, Ivan." The austrian begged to the high heavens that the blonde hadn't heard the stutter in his voice. But, the growth of the grin on the burly man's face was indication that he had. The russian reached a leather-clad hand into his suit jacket, and pulled a white envelope out of his pocket."You were perfect, as always." He spoke as he handed the brunette his paycheck. Roderich sent a shaky, nervous smile up to the man, only able to look him in the eyes for a split second before tightly grasping the envelope in his hands."Well, Guten Nacht, Ivan." He muttered as he quickly turned to leave the building and go back to his home.

A rough hand grabbed his forearm and pushed him into a nearby wall. He was shocked still as warm hands ran the length of his lithe body. The warm breath against his neck woke him from his temporary stupor. Russian words were being whispered in his ear as the hand descended lower on his body. He had no clue as to what Ivan was saying, as his frazzled mind barely even recognized the murmurs in his ears. Roderich felt the buttons of his shirt being undone."N-nein Ivan...P-please stop-p..." He feebly attempted to push the man away, desperate to break from the russian's hold.

As swift hands began to unbutton his dress shirt, Roderich heard the telltale signs of footstep approaching them. Ivan sighed in frustration, but reluctantly let go of his captive."You _will_ keep this between us, da?" The brunette knew it wasn't a question, but he silently nodded his head in understanding. The russian smiled and backed away right as Vash, one of Roderich's dancing partners, rounded the corner."Good show tonight, Zwingli." Ivan purred as he handed the man his paycheck, and calmly sauntered to his office. The swiss merely nodded, pocketing his earnings as his boss casually walked away from the pair. The austrian couldn't believe how a man could go from practically molesting his employee one second, to strolling away with a smile on his face and a skip in his step the next. It nearly made him tremble in pure disgust and fear.

Vash looked to his partner and quirked his eyebrow in confusion."Roderich, what's wrong? You look like you just saw the devil himself." Oh, if only he knew. The brunette shook his head in an attempt to clear his frazzled mind. He looked to the quizzical face of his coworker and offered a half-hearted and fully-counterfeit smile."Nothing is wrong Vash, just...tired, that's all." He was praying to whoever would listen that the blonde didn't question the hesitation in his voice. He sighed in relief when his friend's face returned to it's neutral expression."Alright, well get some sleep, you deserve it." Roderich smiled lightly at the man, and nodded to him in farewell.

When Roderich was finally seated safe in his car, he settled his head on his steering will and cried to himself. He looked over to the glove compartment and unceremoniously pulled out the photos he knew he should get rid of. It was _her_.In one, she was smiling at the camera, at him, in a light green sundress at the park. In another, she was kissing his cheek in front of the Christmas tree that had been in their living room. He spent nearly and hour going through the pictures, and reliving the memories they captured. But, like always, he had to choke back a sob at the last photo in the set. It was the two of them on their wedding day. They were smiling at each other, lost in one anothers eyes. The austrian let out a shaky sigh as he traced his fingers lightly on her face. The woman he loved, the object of his affections, the beautiful girl he had made so many happy memories with. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, setting the pictures in the passenger seat as he finally left the strip club parking lot-tears still slowly cascading down his pale face.


	2. Chapter 2: Why?

Roderich opened the door to his small, one bedroom apartment. He scanned his run-down living room, carpet stained and paint chipping. He looked to his rugged couch, visibly dirtied and holes sewn up . Sighing at the state his dingy residence was in, he closed his door and made his way to the small, disheveled kitchen. Opening the fridge, he grabbed himself a beer and retired to the worn-out sofa, intending to drown out his depression in bitter alcohol. Sipping his drink, he once again ran his eyes over his apartment. He would never have let things get this bad. His fridge was nearly empty, he had a weeks worth of laundry to do, and nearly every inch of his apartment needed to be thoroughly cleaned. The brunette shook the thoughts from his mind and gulped back more of his liquor, downing half the can in one go. He intended to forget this night, if it kills him.

_There she was, right in front of him, smiling at him without a care in the world. Her hazel eyes sparkling with happiness as joy radiates off her skin like sunlight. Her chestnut hair shining in all its glory, cascading around her shoulders. She was sitting on a large blanket, picking flowers and humming to herself. He was holding her hand and kissing her cheek. She was cuddling into his side, running her thin fingers through his hair. Everything was how it should be. They were together, and they were happy that way. But then her smile faltered, and his paradise became his reality. He saw her stand, light no longer dancing in her green irises, face stony and unemotional. The serene meadow they had been basking in was manipulated, once bright colors dulling and fading to shades of gray. They were in their home now, he had come home from his well-paying job, and found her waiting in their kitchen. Her eyes were dull as she lifted her suitcase in one hand and passed him a small envelope with the other. She walked passed him, as he hurriedly read over the letter, eyes the size of dinner plates as realization dawned on him. He ran after her, trying in vain to bring her back. Her grabbed her shoulder and spun her to face him. He gasped at how dead her eyes were, how lifeless she looked when hazel met his lavender hues. The only thing he wanted to know was why? She turned from him, and in the most emotionless voice, gave him his answer._

"_I don't love you anymore, Roderich."_

Violet eyes shot open, pale hands clutching at his chest as he tried to even out his breathing. His head ached with the power of his hangover, blurring his vision as he sat up and attempted to clear his mind. It was that dream again. He had it nearly every night since she left him. He wiped the tears from his face, willing himself to calm down. It had seemed so real. It always did. But it never was. He looked to the clock sat on his livingroom table, numbers hard to make out in the darkness of his apartment. He sighed at the hour, not even bothering to stand from his position on the couch, and laid back down. He hoped to get more sleep, he truly hated having to wear makeup to cover the large, dark circles under his lilac eyes. He looked once again to his clock, the bright red glow of the numbers illuminating his thin, pale face.

3:27 AM


	3. Chapter 3: First Encounter

The sound of cat calls rang through the building as warm bodies moved to the music blasting through speakers mounted on the walls. Lavender eyes once again scanned the room as milky white skin revealed itself. He saw many of the same faces every night, patrons with faces to easy to forget. He never cared for them, anyway. As long as they provided him a means to pay off the debt he found himself in, he couldn't care less what any of them looked like. He glanced to the bar, looking for Ludwig, he hadn't seen him all night and was afraid Ivan might be handing out the paychecks again. The night went on, and eventually Roderich's shift was over. He and his partners rushed into their dressing room to change, the brunette staying back longer than usual in an attempt to avoid being alone with his boss. He dressed quietly and listened as Feliks talked to Vash."So did you, like, notice Luddy wasn't tending the bar tonight?" The polish man asked as he pulled his shirt over his head."Yeah, he pulled a muscle in one of his legs and couldn't come into work. I heard they got someone to fill in for him."

Roderich's heart nearly stopped. They wouldn't let a fill-in give out paychecks. His meeting with Ivan was inevitable, and if it went anything like last time...The austrian shuddered at the thought. A knock was heard from the door and soon the russian himself stood in the doorway, a nervous look overtaking his features."I'm sorry, but I have a family emergency that came up, your paychecks are with the bartender. Good night." He shut the door in a rush and sped out of the club. A wave of relief washed over Roderich as he knew he was safe, for now. He didn't even care what kind of "family emergency" his boss had, he was just happy he didn't have to see him tonight."He's letting a fill-in barkeep hand out paychecks? That doesn't sound like Ivan." Feliks mentioned as he pulled on his boots. Vash looked to the other blonde."Ludwig's brother is the one who volunteered to tend the bar for him, his name's Hilbert or Dilbert, something like that."He said as he tied his combat boots. Roderich immediately Finished dressing and bid his coworkers farwell as he made his way to the bar.

He'd heard Ludwig talk about his brother from time to time. Mostly about how utterly annoying the man can be, and is. But he was so incredibly elated by the fact that he wasn't going to be molested by his boss, he didn't care if this guy was the most obnoxious human on earth. He stepped up to the bar and immediately noticed it was left unattended. Roderich bristled as he sat at counter. He couldn't believe this random man was stupid enough to slack off under Ivan's authority. How dumb _was_ this guy? He has a very minuscule list of tasks he has to accomplish, and he can't even stay the damn bar counter!

Pale cheeks flushed red with anger as Roderich's frustration peaked. The last thing he wanted to do was sit and wait for Ludwig's dumbass of an older brother to give him his paycheck. His internal ranting was cut off by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see the familiar face of Feliciano, Ludwig's best friend."Hello Feliciano, how are you?" The brunette might not be in the best of moods, but he was still a gentleman."Oh, I'm fine Roderich. I just wanted to give you your paycheck, ve!" The bubbly italian cheered as he handed the envelope to the, now confused, man in front of him."I thought Ludwig's brother was filling-in for him, why are you handing out the checks?" Feliciano nodded his head and responded."He left about fifteen minutes ago to check on Luddy, he asked me to take over here at the bar until he got back."

Roderich felt a pang of guilt build up in his chest. He felt bad for calling this man so many names when he was checking on his sibling. He said his farewells to his friend and made his way to the front door. As he crossed the threshold of the club, he bumped into someone, falling right on his ass. He heard snickers in the background as he felt around on the floor for his glasses."Shit, let me help you." A pale white hand reached out for Roderich in his blurry peripheral vision. He blindly took the man's hand, and hoisted himself to his feet."Here, these must be yours, the awesome me doesn't wear glasses." The brunette nearly scoffed at the size of this guy's ego. He took his glasses and rushed out the door, not sparring a second glance as he left. Roderich could only pray he never ran into that self-absorbed man again in his life. Well, he could dream, couldn't he?


	4. Chapter 4: Drunken Trust

Tired, violet eyes scanned the paperwork in front of them as the brunette read paragraph after paragraph. A sigh escaped pale, chapped lips as he lazily sprawled across his couch. Roderich had been signing debt collection forms since nine o'clock that morning. Now, just as the moon makes itself visible behind his kitchen window, he decides to give up. He mournfully thought back as to why he had to fill out these papers. Why he had taken a second mortgage out on his home, on what had been their home, only to lose it anyway. Why he sold off all of his belongings. He remembers his music room, from its tiled floors, to its embossed walls. The multitude of instruments found along the expanse of wall behind his piano. His piano. The same piano his father taught his how to play, the one he learned to play from Roderich's grandfather. That piano had been the pride and joy of his family for three generations, and he had hoped to teach his children to play it, as well.

But, Roderich thought, where was his piano now? He didn't know. He had to sell it to pay off Elizabeta in the divorce. He sold off everything he loved, and he was still up to his ears in debt. He was pulled from his thoughts as the phone rang for the tenth time that day. Roderich sighed as he recognized the number. More debt collectors. He muted the god awful thing, running a hand down his face as stress began to weigh heavy on his mind. The austrian eyed the mounting stack of papers he had yet to read, and jumped to his feet. He was going to have fun, if it kills him. He took a quick shower and redressed. Roderich left his apartment, already knowing his destination, and paperwork being the last thing on his mind.

It isn't often that he finds himself here as a patron. The club was a little quieter most weekdays, and today was no exception. A total of about fifteen people littered the room as he made his way to the bar. He took an open seat and as he greeted Ludwig, focusing more on his thoughts than the man in front of him. That's why, when he heard the most annoying cackle known to man, he looked up into smiling, garnet eyes." Kesesese, do I look like my little brother to you?" Roderich blanched as he recognized the voice of the man he bumped into days ago. One thought stuck out in the austrians mind as his eyes took in person before him.

He looks _nothing_ like his brother.

This man was white as a ghost, with hair to match. His eyes were the color of aged wine, and shined with the childish nature of his obviously immature personality. And, for the love of God, he would not shut up. His soft, pink lips were moving a mile a minute, with no signs of stopping. Roderich couldn't believe a human being could talk this much without realizing he wasn't being listened to. It astounded him to the point where he almost wanted to leave to see if the guy would keep going, talking to an empty bar stool as if it were interested in the conversation. The thought made a brought a chuckle from deep within the brunette's chest, making the chatterbox stop mid-sentence and quirk an eyebrow at his outburst." Is the awesome me amusing you?" A spark of merriment flickered behind amethyst eyes as Roderich replied." In more ways than you could imagine."

The night went on as the two conversed, the austrian actually listening to what his acquaintance was saying. The already hushed club was muted as the two talked about everything under the sun. Hours passed, drinks were purchased, and in no time Roderich was inebriated and emotional. He had his head in his hands, asking himself how his life could be as bad as it is. His wife was so unhappy in their marriage that she divorced him, he became so depressed he lost all desire to leave his home, he lost his job when he didn't show up for work, he had to sell all of his things to pay for the divorce, he had to take out a second mortgage on his home only to lose it anyway, and the only job he could find that wasn't flipping burgers was stripping. Roderich, in his drunken stupor, felt as if he had hit rock bottom.

"Hey, why are you making such an unawesome face?" Curious and worried vermillion hues attempted to scan the brunette's face, afraid he had made the man upset. Roderich sluggishly looked up at companion, misty eyed and lip quivering, face red from the alcohol and his own tears. He relayed his troubles to Ludwig's brother, craving someone in his life that will just listen to what he has to say. The austrian was sobbing into drink by the end of his ramblings, but he felt better that someone cared enough to pay any attention to him. Ruby eyes glistened in understanding and a gentle hand fell unto his shoulder." I know things may not look good now, but that just means there going to get better, and more awesome in the future. I mean, I've never been in a situation like yours, but I would know that staying sad and depressed wouldn't help anything. Maybe I'm just optimistic, I don't know." Roderich, obviously drunk and tired from crying, sent a weary smile towards his new friend." More people should be, and thank you." A million-watt smile was sent his way as the other replied." You're welcome."

Roderich had the man call him a cab when he had to close the club for the night. The albino was even nice enough to stay and talk with him as he waited outside. The taxi pulled up next to the curb, but before the brunette could close the door, a pale hand shot out for his own. " Gilbert." Confusion was written all over the lavender-eyed man's face at the sudden outburst from his companion." Wha-" He was cut off mid question as he received his answer." My name is Gilbert." Gilbert shut the door and watched as the cab drew out of sight. Roderich smiled as he rested his head on the taxi's window, hoping he would get the chance to say what he wanted to say to the man who had helped him that night.

_Danke, Gilbert._

Neither man noticed the eerie lavender eyes watching them from an office window. They didn't see the larger man's childish smile twist itself into a cheshire grin, spanning from ear to ear. They didn't feel the harsh chill in the air as the voyeur took hold of his rusted, metal pipe. They didn't hear the small, sadistic giggles that left his rough, chapped lips. They didn't see him as he slithered from his office. They didn't know the one thought running through his head as he made his way out the front door of his club.

_If I can't have him, no one can._


	5. Chapter 5: Through His Eyes

Large, heavy boots thudded on the hard wood floor as the man entered his home. His coat was hung by the door, and he slowly made his way into the living room. The man lit his fireplace and settled into the large, antique chair before it, and stared into the fiery embers. Violet eyes watched as flames grew, casting a warm, orange glow over the room. His mind wandered, lost in the way the fire flickered in the hearth. Thoughts of days gone by flooded his conscious, leaving the eerie calm of nostalgia to wash over him like a wave on a shore. He closed his eyes, lavender orbs hidden behind pale eyelids, as he recalled the memories of his childhood. He thought of the birthday parties and Christmas feasts after Church. He thought back to being young, playing with his friends, sharing childish laughs and bright smiles.

Pale lips quirked into a small grin, until it was wiped from his face with the sudden realization that all of his memories were lies. He never had a party on his birthday, he never ate a feast for Christmas, he never had friends and certainly never got to play with anyone. He lived on a farm, away from the bigger cities of his homeland, with his parents and sisters. He had to work, taking care of the goats and tending to the vegetables. His family was often too busy to have birthday parties, and never had enough money to buy him nice Church clothes, or toys for Chrismas. He lived out in the country side where there were no other children to play with. He was always working on the farm, anyway, he wouldn't have been able to play ,even if he did have friends.

The fires of hatred danced in his eyes and his fists clenched like a vice as he hought of how unfair life could be. He never truly got to be a child, he scared his entire family away, he was let go from his good paying job, he lost the one he lo-. He stopped. Blazing anger was replaced by irrefutable sadness. His heart ached in his chest as he recalled hos cold it was, the snow piling on the side of the road as he drove them home. He could almost here his lovers voice, telling him to slow down and to be more careful. He could see himself now, looking away from the road to respond to his partner. He tried to yell at himself, begging himself to notice the headlights closing in on them. He saw brown eyes widen as the two cars connected, head on. The clash of metal on metal deafened him as tears ran down his face.

He could see what was left of his vehicle. He could smell the blood and gasoline. He could make out his lovers body, crushed and mangled, unmoving.

And with that,

Ivan screamed.


	6. Chapter 6: Revelation

Uneven footsteps resounded in the hall as Roderich made way to his apartment. The lightweight giggled as he tripped over his own feet, nearly running headfirst into the cream coloured wall. He fumbled with his keys as the old oak door came into view, and nearly couldn't contain his outburst of laughter as they clanked to the carpeted floor. Lavender eyes became fixated on the keyhole, and after a few feeble attempts, the door was opened. Roderich, his drunken stupor getting the better of him, began gallantly dancing around his living room, humming a tune under his alcohol scented breath.

He spun around his drab little living space, bumping into every solid object he owned. He, with as much grace as a drunk man could muster, fell unceremoniously onto his couch. Melodious laughter rumbled deep in his chest as he fought to catch his breath. Chocolate brown locks splayed over the throw pillow, swirls of silky chestnut against the deep plum fabric. Violet orbs resided beneath pale lids as Roderich closed his eyes, tranquil and at ease. He couldn't even remember why he'd felt so bad earlier in the first place.

It was then the his eyes landed on the multitude of papers that engulfed his coffee table. It all came rushing back, flooding his mind with the reminder that he was financially up shit creek without a paddle. Pale hands wormed their way into the pocket of the young man's jeans, pulling a folded paper from its depths. Thin, deft fingers opened the note with care, handling it as if it were glass.

It was a picture. _It was her picture_. She looked beautiful here. _She always looked beautiful._ He had done this so many times since she left. Roderich could spend hours staring at her, at Elizabeta. It was a habit he couldn't quit, a fix he feared he'd never get over. Tears cascaded down his face, leaving wet trails on his cheeks. He sobbed into his hands, feeling more alone than ever without Gilbert to comfort him.

_Gilbert._

Roderich stifled a sniffle as he recalled the man he'd met that night. Gilbert, the albino fill-in bartender, had been a godsend for Roderich. The man had paid attention to him, and had listened to his drunken ramblings and pitiful life story for nearly half the evening. He'd given the austrian advice, and even offered to help him again if need be. That raspy, sultry voice echoed in the brunette's head.

_"Why beat yourself up over a girl you couldn't make happy, I mean, that's the whole point of being in a relationship anyways, right? That's totally unawesome!"_

Roderich's amethyst eyes sparked with confusion. Why _is_ he beating himself up over this? If Elizabeta wasn't happy, he should _want_ her to be happy, shouldn't he? If he cares so much about her, he should want what's best for her, even if that isn't him. A new determination burned within his heart as he stood on his own two feet. He looked to the photo in his hands and smiled.

"Danke Gilbert, für die Einstellung mich frei."

_"Thank you, Gilbert, for setting me free."_


End file.
